The Surging Waves of Life


(Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding)

You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life” crooned Ash as she pirouetted with an unbelievably languid grace.

“From where on earth did you get hold of that hideous pair of shoes?” Venky’ s reaction bordered on the apoplectic.

Abruptly abandoning her dancing maneuvers, Ash shot a look of daggers back at Venky. “I find nothing wrong with my selection. White is purity, white is transcendence and white IS King Elvis!”

The last line made Venky break into a smile. This was typical Ash. A woman of resoluteness, resilience and resolve. “The feet don’t discriminate between the colours adorning the footwear” now Ash was in full flow. “Dance as though your entire life depends upon it. Swing for the soul, swivel for the celebrations. If music is an ocean, dancing constitutes the waves. White as they come surging in, white while they gracefully sweep back.

“What have you been reading these days?” Venky wondered out loud. This philosophical side of Ash was one which had never before manifested even remotely.

“The ebb and flow of life needs to be lived and not just read, Mr. Socrates” replied Ashita. “You will realise it when you begin dancing.”

(Word Count: 200)

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Susan Spaulding. For more details visit Here.  To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

3 thoughts on “The Surging Waves of Life

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